


The Barista

by Midna149



Category: Legend of Zelda, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: M/M, Male Sheik, cute as heck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 19:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midna149/pseuds/Midna149
Summary: Sheik just wants to find a new coffee shop. What he doesn't expect is a chance at something more. (Male/Sheik and Link. Very fluffy, maybe a little sad. Rated G because it's just an adorable mess. Please read and review!)





	The Barista

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned that this is like only the cutest thing I've ever written. I hope it is to your... taste? Heheheheheh. Okay, I'm leaving now. Enjoy, my lovelies.

“The Barista”

Sheik had to walk almost 20 minutes in the opposite direction of all his regular places by his apartment just to find a coffee shop he hadn’t been to before. He had carved a quaint little life out of that corner of town over the past three and a half years, but that was all over now. That was the hardest part of moving on. He couldn’t even find comfort in his favorite café anymore. Every building was filled with memories turned bitter and sour, far too painful.

The sign on the glass door said “Kingston Koffee” in lettering that reminded him of castle spires. Seemed like a dorky little family-owned establishment. The young man shrugged to himself, pulled the door open, and was greeted with a warm relief from the biting autumn air. Tugging his bulky gray scarf away from his face a little, he scanned his ruby eyes around the store.

Squishy plaid loveseats and worn wooden tables were clumped together in groups all throughout the area, making it look like everything was bought off an old catalogue by the owner. Along the far wall was a series of tall, dark shelves, stocked with any and all supplies one could possibly need to make and enjoy a cup of coffee. The soothing din of cappuccino machines, idle conversation, and upbeat music reached his pink-tipped ears, and he felt himself relaxing into this new location much more easily than he had expected to.

Hands in his pockets, Sheik walked up to the front of the shop, where the only register was currently unmanned. He glanced down at his feet, leaves and snow sticking to the edges of his boots. He scrunched up his nose, realizing only now that he should have wiped them off outside before stomping it all into the carpet. There was a little cooler with chocolate milk, kombucha, and plastic-wrapped finger sandwiches beside him, along with a humble stack of cute castle-shaped business cards. He was inspecting the regal font when a sound brought his attention forward.

“Good morning, friend! What can I get started for ya?”

The boy’s voice was as warm and bright as sunshine. Just like, well, the rest of him. Hair like silken strands of pure gold stuck out at silly angles from underneath the green cap that shaded half of his face. Sky-colored eyes shone, unwavering, with a kindness so genuine that it made Sheik’s chest ache to meet his gaze. Slightly too-large khakis and an emerald polo shirt covered his thin, short frame, but he didn’t seem to mind. A name tag was crookedly pinned onto the pocket of the black apron tied across his body: in clean capital letters the name “Link” was written in permanent marker.

The young barista -Link, apparently- just looked at Sheik with a patient smile. Whether it was just his proper employee etiquette or not was unclear. He cast his eyes away from the boy, worried he had already been staring too long, and cleared his throat. The chalkboard menu behind the counter seemed vaguely intimidating all of a sudden.

“Um. I don’t know,” he muttered, berating himself for lacking the energy to be more amicable. Link just beamed even more brightly in response.

“First time here?” Sheik nodded. “Well, just pick your favorite.” He looked down again with a tight grimace forcing its way onto his face. That was another thing he would have to forget, relearn, rediscover.

“I, uh… I guess I don’t have a favorite anymore,” Sheik admitted, poorly disguising the sudden thickness in his voice.

Link's eyebrows scrunched together, smile wavering. For only half a second he took in the man's rather disheveled appearance. Messy straw-colored hair hung in his fiery eyes, under which dark storm clouds rested. And even under three or four layers of shirts and jackets, hunched shoulders were still prominent enough to send waves of sympathy through the boy.

"Tell you what," he started, grabbing a large paper cup from a stack, "I'll make you my favorite. Can I get your name, friend?”

"Um… Sheik? You don’t have to," he stammered, more than a little surprised at the offer.

"Don't even worry about it. If you're gonna try something new, you might as well try the best," Link declared, with laughter like windchimes.

Sheik pulled out his wallet, but the barista held his hand up, shoving the bills away. He started to protest, to insist, but Link just pressed a finger to his lips, leaving Sheik to dumbly replace the money into his back pocket.

"I'll let you know when it's ready, Sheik," he said, voice a little lower and softer than before.

He shuffled to the side of the counter, where he watched Link and the other employee perform their craft with the coffee machines. His coworker was a girl with equally yellow hair, pulled into a long ponytail. Sheik wondered if maybe they were siblings. He looked down at the business card still in his hand, not really registering it as he waited awkwardly for his order.

"Are you new in town, Sheik?" Link suddenly called from a few feet away.

"Uh, no," he replied lamely. "I actually live a few blocks away."

"Then how come I've never seen you in here before?"

Sheik winced; he should’ve expected that to be the follow-up question. He didn't want to be reminded.

"I just used to go to a different coffee shop," he said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. As if that would redirect the pain away from the center of his chest. He looked up, hair in his eyes, to see Link seemingly dissecting his words, cutting through them. He just nodded, didn't pry.

Adjusting the knot at the small of his back, Link stepped towards Sheik while the coffee brewed. He propped his elbows on the counter, leaning forward casually. In contrast to Sheik's rigid stance.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to stop by today," he said, staring down at his clasped hands. The sentence was simple, but full of meaning that Sheik caught and latched onto against his better judgement. But he didn't make any reply.

After a few moments of silence, Link spoke again. "I was hoping you were a tourist or something, though." He paused, so crimson eyes would meet his azure ones. "I coulda showed you around after my shift."

"Oh," Sheik breathed. He would've blamed the pink blooming across his cheeks on the weather outside, but that would've been a lie.

Link propositioned this without breaking eye contact, with a calm sureness that Sheik envied. That Sheik himself once possessed, a lifetime ago, until...

He looked away.

"I don't-" He tripped over his words as the memories swelled in his head like helium filling a balloon. "I don't know, I mean..." He steadied himself with a great, shuddering breath, shoving it all back and locking the door. "I'm not ready for... that. Not right now," he told himself just as much as the boy in front of him.

Link only shifted his expression into one of compassion, head tilted to the side as he pushed himself up off the counter. "No worries, friend. Make sure you worry about you," he said as he returned to the coffee that had finished brewing.

Sheik dug through those words. Looking for pity at his pathetic situation. For anger at being essentially shot down. But he couldn't seem to find anything of the sort. He looked down again, feeling a little too much.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, thankful that the café was now more or less empty. Link looked over his shoulder, glancing at the top of Sheik's unkempt head.

"Why? You don't need to be." Link smiled sadly, even though Sheik wouldn't have seen it. "I understand needing a new coffee shop. It's hard, when everything has to be different." He fell silent, focused his attention on blending the coffee.

Sheik watched the skilled barista add this and that to the beverage, tracing his slim profile with his eyes. His golden hair fell just short of touching his shoulders, and swayed delicately over his ears as he worked. Most of his face was cast in harsh relief from the shadow of his cap, exaggerating the soft curves of his cheekbones, chin, nose, lips. He glanced over from the corner of his eye, catching Sheik’s staring. A coy smile flashed across the boy’s face as Sheik turned pink again. He chuckled to himself, finally snapping a lid onto the paper cup.

“Alright, here we go,” Link announced as he scribbled on the side of the cup with a pen he had tucked behind his ear. “One caramel-cinnamon soy latte with a shot of vanilla and extra whipped cream.” Sheik took the drink from the boy’s small hands, reveling in the warmth radiating through his fingers. He turned the cup to see Link’s tidy handwriting spell out his name, the “I” adorned with a little smiling heart. He almost wished the boy had written it on a clean cup, so he could keep it.

“Thank you,” Sheik said with a self-conscious smile. He was worried he wasn’t going to like it. It sounded like it would just be an assault of sugary torture. Then again, for three and a half years he woke up to a tepid mug of French press brew with a stupid amount of vanilla almond milk in it waiting for him on his night stand every morning. And he had never gotten used to that. He was glad to forget that one small memory, that one mundane taste, and take a leap of faith into what honestly sounded like a saccharine dream.

Link was watching hesitantly, almost excitedly, for Sheik to try his creation. He carefully brought the lid to his lips and proceeded to scorch his tongue anyway, like he did every time. He tried again, closer to succeeding, and was able to discern flavors other than his burning flesh.

“This is really good,” Sheik said, surprise probably rudely evident. “Did you come up with this?”

Link nodded, shoving his hands into his apron pockets proudly. “It’s my super special secret recipe,” he said.

“You should put this up on the menu,” Sheik suggested.

“Nah, it’s not _that_ good.” Link looked away for a second. The other didn’t reply, just sipping away at his beverage. “Besides, I’m kinda too proud of it. I thought of it all of my own. I don’t wanna make it into this whole thing that everybody knows about. So only I know what it is. I haven’t even had her try it.” He pointed his thumb behind him, where the ponytailed girl was helping a woman and her toddler purchase pastries.

“Oh—Well, you didn’t have to share it with me, you know,” Sheik said, guilt and shame increasing with every word he spoke. “I don’t want to make it… unspecial.”

Link smiled, almost as sweetly as his caffeinated concoction, shaking his head gently. His long eyelashes danced over his cheekbones. “It’s not really a big deal. Don’t worry so much. I made it for you because I wanted to. And besides,” he put his arms behind his back sheepishly, “you seemed sad, and I know this drink always cheers me up, so.”

“But like, why didn’t you just make me some regular sugary coffee?” he asked, not sure if he was officially overstaying his welcome by now. He should have just been grateful, instead of trying to always find meaning in everything like an idiot. The critique banged around his skull, three and a half years’ worth of being told such things…

“I dunno,” Link shrugged, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. His shy, quiet voice dwarfed the harsh mantra he was remembering, reliving. “I just thought it would be nice, I guess.” It sounded more like a question. “Maybe that’s weird.” Sheik saw himself in the way the boy was starting to recede into himself. He would wish he hadn’t been so kind any second now.

“Hey, no, please… It was nice. It was really sweet of you, I mean it.” He was so bad at this. It sounded fake, even to him.

Link drew a great sigh, gathering his composure as quickly as one could while on the clock. He walked around the counter and gestured for Sheik to follow him to a pair of armchairs. The two of them sat down, and Link locked eyes with him, laughter pulling at his mouth. “Alright, so it’s gonna sound really stupid, but, like. I wanted to make you my super special drink because – honestly? – I think you’re cute. Okay? You caught me red-handed.”

Sheik marveled at how the barista could speak his mind so easily. Confessing something like that was supposed to make people all flustered and nervous, but with only the barest of pink appearing on the apples of his cheeks, it was rather impressive.

“But I still want you to have that coffee, okay?” Link continued. “Don’t feel bad. It’ll tarnish the sacred name of the super special drink.” That pulled a chuckle out of the young man. He looked into those sapphire eyes, willing himself not to feel anxious, willing himself to just exist in the moment without all the memories pulling him under. Willing himself to say what he wanted to say before.

“You know,” he started. He cleared his throat, started over, embracing how vulnerable he felt. “You know I wanna take you up on your offer? It’s just… You were right. Everything has to be different. I don’t wanna go to my old coffee shop. Or my old grocery store, my old gas station, my old liquor store… my old life.” He sipped at his coffee. “It’s all too much.”

Link just listened, work temporarily forgotten due to the lack of customers at the moment. He thought for a second and wanted to tread very carefully. “Can I ask…?” He trailed off, but Sheik nodded anyway.

“Her name was Anju,” he stated, switching between looking up at Link and down at his coffee while the silence stretched between them. “She decided to reconnect with some artsy guy she had a fling with in college or something. Apparently I just wasn’t the one. He helped her get all her stuff out of my place and everything. But meanwhile, here I am in the aftermath…” He looked up at the ceiling, swallowing down the stinging in his throat. “I just want everything to be normal again. I don’t want it to bug me anymore.”

Link nodded as he thought of what to say. “Well, hey. I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. Everybody’s goin’ through their own stuff, you know?”

“Yeah, but who says I want to go through anything?” Sheik countered. “Sorry,” he added after a moment, hanging his head. “You’re sweet for hearing me out, I shouldn’t act like that.” He pulled his head up, as if the act demanded great effort, and swiped the hair out of his eyes. He found a strange look on the boy’s face, a soft smile that reached his eyes. It gave him the courage to attempt to reciprocate the kindness.

“Uh, so. If we’re both, like… being all honest with each other right now? I should tell you that, um. Me too.” He would have slapped himself at his lack of eloquence if his hands weren’t trembling.

Link just let out a short chuckle. “Yeah, I could tell. You kept staring at me.” Sheik groaned in response, and the yellow haired boy laughed again.

“I suck at this,” he said to himself.

“No you don’t,” Link retorted, smiling. “It’s just… new. Things don’t stay new forever. You just need some time. And maybe a new coffee shop. Or maybe your old one was fine, who knows. But you’ll be okay. We adjust to change way easier than we think we do.”

Sheik looked down, at his coffee, at his name on the side of his cup. He was right. It was neither productive nor healthy to curl up on his couch every night, until who knows when, recounting every second of the past three and a half years. Finding her every cruel word, every disinterested action, every red flag that contributed to the landfill of why he should have seen it coming. Missing her, then hating her, then needing her, then… not knowing if he even cared about her anymore. Or her absence. All that was left were the memories, slashing through his rib cage every time he opened a door, flipped a page, turned a key, poured a drink…

There was time for mourning. But Sheik was ready to push past that. Or at least he wanted to be.

“Link!” came the voice of the other employee suddenly. “Get over here, I need a hazelnut macchiato, please!” she called. A short line had formed during their conversation, so she wasn’t able to make any orders on her own. Link glanced at the young man with a slight frown, who was more than a little embarrassed for pulling the boy from his job for so long, then quickly made for the coffee machines.

Scarlet eyes followed the boy as he hurriedly but expertly created each cup of coffee for what became a steady stream of customers. His mind was working its way through everything he’d suddenly been made to wade through too hard to really register much else. Whether he’d stayed in that soft armchair for 30 minutes or two hours was unknown. He vaguely noted how Link would look behind his shoulder every so often. Sheik found himself wanting to believe he was making sure he hadn’t left yet.

Sheik decided he was tired of feeling such emptiness in his life anymore. All the blackness around him, all the shadows weighing him down lately, he was just tired of it. If he couldn’t go back to the way things were, then all that was left was to make the best of what he had now. He wasn’t sure the way things were had room for him anymore anyway. Everything had been too dark for too long, and he knew it was time for him to cast the clouds away. He wanted to see the sun again.

He wanted to bask in the sunshine.

Sheik reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulling out the café ’s business card again. He stared at it, flicking a corner with his thumb, idly slurping at what was left of his now-cold coffee. The musical ring of laughter brought his attention to the front of the store. Link was turned away from him, head tilted back slightly as he chuckled at his coworker. The latter was in the middle of brewing what Sheik probably incorrectly guessed was an Americano, palm pressed to her forehead, brow scrunched together in frustration. As Link took the drink from her hand, he said something to her that Sheik couldn't hear. The girl just nodded and took a new cup from the stack to her left, resuming her task.

The barista turned on his heel, popping a lid onto the coffee. He quickly made his way over to Sheik. He met the man's inquisitive eyes, smiling softly, and offered the cup to him with pink cheeks. He shoved his free hand into his apron pocket in an attempt to quell his nerves. Sheik didn't know he would find such an act so endearing.

"Hey, so," Link cleared his throat, "Zelda messed up the order. It was supposed have soy milk in it. Normally I would just toss it, but um. You want it?"

Sheik hesitated for a moment. "What is it?" he asked. Like that mattered. He had a hunch that Link didn't just want to not waste supplies.

He shrugged. "Just a cappuccino." He glanced over his shoulder, noting the lack of a line. "It's not very sweet, though. I can add some chocolate to it or something?"

Crimson eyes fluttered to the cup in the boy's hands. Truly Sheik didn't care what it tasted like; it was caffeine and would get the job done. But the gesture made his stomach feel like a child's homemade volcano.

"Um, yeah, actually," he said through cracked lips. "That would be great. If it's not too much trouble."

Link's posture instantly straightened at that, eyes almost sparkling. "No trouble at all! Be right back, okay?"

Sheik stared after him for a moment before his gaze fell back to the little piece of cardstock in his hand. He searched his pockets and fished out a pen, scribbling onto the business card as quickly as he could while still making his penmanship legible. He rose to his feet, stretching his legs a little from what could very well have been hours of misuse, and made his way to the counter by the register.

Link glanced up from the cappuccino, noting the other’s presence. "Going so soon?" he asked, and if Sheik didn’t know any better he would have thought the question was genuine, despite how long he had been situated in that cushy chair.

"Yeah, I guess so," he responded, stifling a yawn. "But I'll be back tomorrow."

"You promise?" Link asked, too earnestly.

"Are you kidding? Where else am I going to get my new favorite coffee?" He tried his best to sound casual. Link didn't respond right away. It didn't seem like he could; even his ears had a bit of pink on them.

As he finished up the altered drink, he finally seemed to settle on, "I'm glad, Sheik."

"Hey, you don't happen to have like a tip jar, do you?" he asked after carefully tasting his new coffee, which was plenty sweet now.

"Nah, we're pretty casual about stuff like that. Nothing official," Link shrugged, a silent question in the look he gave.

"Good, 'cuz um. This is just for you." Sheik reached out his hand, the business card's blank backside facing up, ten digits scratched into it in blue ink.

Link slowly dropped his eyes to the paper, gently taking the card from Sheik's fingers. After reading through the number a time or two, he looked back up. Fiery eyes fixed on aqua ones, desperately trying not to waver as he waited for the response.

Finally Link smiled, voice almost that of a whisper. "I'm off at four. Is that okay?"

The warmth that spread through his chest and into his limbs felt more invigorating than any caffeinated beverage.

Sheik looked down, swallowing thickly, regaining composure. "Yeah," he said, chuckling breathlessly despite himself. "Yeah, that's perfect."

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to note that I only use "young man" for Sheik and "boy" for Link as a means to distinguish the two and make it less confusing when referencing them. Also Link is just a cute boy, okay? But they're both of legal, consenting age. Please tell me what you think if you can; it would absolutely make my day. Thank you for reading, lovelies. With any luck I'll be back soon.


End file.
